


Fold, Spindle or Fornicate

by Ceares



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: F/M, Gangbang, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Orgy, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-14
Updated: 2008-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceares/pseuds/Ceares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first rule of fucking Brock Samson was that you didn't talk about fucking Brock Samson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fold, Spindle or Fornicate

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to Curtana for the beta.
> 
> Written for Jane Elliot

 

 

The first rule of fucking Brock Samson was that you didn't talk about fucking Brock Samson. The second rule of fucking Brock Samson was...well pretty much the same as the first rule, which made it easy to remember, which was A.) good because some of the people fucking Brock? Were not the brightest stars in the galaxy, and B.)bad because everybody thought they were Brock's one and only.

**********

It wasn't like Brock planned it. Sure, he liked getting laid as much as the next guy, but he also liked stuff simple, and this wasn't. It was like a faucet had been turned on and everywhere he went, horny, needy people were dropping out of the sky.

It started with the Doc, as things usually did. Brock found him in the lab, drunk and blubbering, leaning against yet another non-working piece of machinery. He leaned over, ready to scoop him up and carry him to his room, when the Doc looked up at him with bleary, desperately sad eyes. "Brock?"

"Come on, Doc. Let's get you to bed."

"What's the point? I don't have anyone to share it with." His voice broke and he took yet another drink. At some point, he'd abandoned the glass and was drinking straight from the bottle.

Brock sighed and squatted next to him."It'll be okay, Doc. You just gotta get out there, you'll find someone."

"No. Nobody loves me, Brock. Nobody ever will!" He was practically sobbing now and Brock patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"If the Monarch can do it, you can too. I can maybe help you out." He started thinking of some of the more desperate ladies of the evening he knew. Getting laid was probably the best thing for the Doc right now.

"You will? Oh thank you, Brock!"

Brock was usually ready for anything, he had to be in the Doc's employment, but the last thing he expected was the Doc to fall, or more accurately, dive face first into his lap, knocking him on his ass. About two seconds of the Doc's skinny fingers fumbling at his zipper made him realize it wasn't an accident, and for once in his life, Brock Samson was frozen. By the time he snapped out of it, the Doc was in the process of giving him the most inept blowjob in the world. There was slobbering and choking and teeth for the love of God! Brock grabbed his head and guided him out of sheer self-preservation.

It was only fair after, to reach down and unzip the Doc. He found a long, thin cock, head wet with pre-cum, and Brock slicked his palm and went to work. A few strokes and the Doc was groaning loudly and spurting over his hand. After, he collapsed against Brock, mumbling.

"My beautiful, blond angel." Then he was out, snuffling softly against Brock's thigh.

Brock picked him up and carried him to bed, undressing him and tucking him in with a fond pat on the head.

**********

It was only a month or so later that he received a message from Molotov through one of their mutual contacts. When he picked the lock of the hotel room, and walked in, knife at the ready, she was sprawled out on the bed, naked. Completely naked, no chastity belt in sight.

"Holy hell!"

"I know, it is wonderful is it not? I am free at last, and yours, Brock Samson." She grinned at him, and pulled her own knife from under the pillow. "Provided, that is, that you can take me."

As he slid into her later, ignoring the sharp sting of the cuts they both wore, he found it was well worth the wait.

***********

Mandalay, he bumped into outside one of the Guild's branch offices.

"Applying for a Guild job, huh?"

The other man shrugged. "It's not like there's a lot of call for henchmen outside the Guild."

"You could try something else."

"Samson, dude look at me. There's not a lot of people scrambling to hire me to teach kindergarten."

Brock raised a brow. "You a teacher?"

"Top of my class." He shrugged, resigned. "So, let me buy you a drink, man. To make up for that whole Brisby thing."

And because he felt a kinship with him, Brock said "Yeah, sure." and kept saying it, back in Mandalay's room, stretched out under the big guy, spread open and panting on his cock. They'd wrestled to see who would bottom, and Brock would never admit it, but he cheated.

**********

The Monarch and Dr. Mrs. the Monarch happened during one of the usual failed attempts on the Doc. They considered it some kind of marital aid. Then it was one after the other, everywhere he went. After a certain point, he just sighed and started taking off his clothes when someone gave him 'that' look. 

**********

Brock woke up to a crowded room. Molotov and the Doc were standing next to him, arms folded, with nearly identical expressions of smugness and something extremely disturbing--lust--on their faces. He barely made out all the other people before he realized he was strapped down to a metal table, and completely nude.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Well, it seems like we all have more in common than we realized. Guess what that is, Brock?"

Brock shook his head, still a little out of it. "What the hell did you knock me out with anyway?" The last thing he remembered was the meal the Doc had fixed.

"A turkey and a box of wine." Doctor Venture grinned. "Brilliant, huh? I saw it on an episode of that stand up comedian's show."

"Home Improvement?"

"No, the other one."

"Everybody Loves Raymond?"

He sighed in frustration. "The one about nothing?" They looked at him blankly. "Never mind!"

"Oookay. I don't know what's going on here, but I'm gonna need you to let me up now, Doc."

"I'm sorry, Brock. I can't do that. You see, we sort of have an agreement." He gestured behind him and there were various murmurs from the crowd. 

It was filled with friend and foe alike, all people Brock had fucked in the past year or so. Well almost all of them. He had no idea what the Monarch's henchmen were doing there, unless he brought them along for back up.

Molotov leaned in, eyes flashing. "We were rather upset to find out that you have been leading us all on, Brock." She glanced around the room disdainfully. "I can't believe you were wasting your magnificent talents on this rabble."

"Hey!"

She ignored the Doc. "At first we were going to have a competition for you." She trailed a sharp nail down his chest. "To the death if necessary, but then Dr. Mrs. the Monarch made us realize that we were all victims of love. You have already tortured us Brock, by coming, and then going so quickly. Never a phone call or a postcard. Always, we must make the booty calls ourselves. Why should we suffer anymore?" She reached down and made sure the bonds were tight. "No, the prudent thing to do is to share you."

"You can't force me to participate."

Molotov slowly peeled off her black leather jumpsuit, noting the way Brock's eyes slid over the pale skin reveal. No man could resist her. "I don't think we will have to force you, Brock darling.She glanced down at his rapidly hardening cock. "You look rather eager to me."

Doctor Venture imitated Molotov, unzipping his speed suit to reveal a pale, skinny frame. Molotov glanced in his direction with a sneer and the Doctor frowned, crossing his arms. "I may not be artificially enhanced, but I have no problem satisfying him, Missy!"

"Please! He humors you because he feels sorry for you."

"Listen you Soviet slut..."

"Oh will the two of you shut up! This is no time for fighting."

"The Monarch is right."

"Thank you, Pookie."

"Right now, Brock Samson should be our only focus."

All eyes turned back to the magnificent figure spread nude and erect before them like a golden feast. Muscles strained against the bindings, veins bulging in his deeply tanned arms as Brock struggled to get away. "This is crazy!"

"Is it really, Brock?" Doctor Venture leaned in, a smug grin across his thin lips. "On the contrary my friend, it's brilliant! Oh, and don't bother trying to get loose. Those are made with a super strong alloy I came up with myself. I call it Venturanium!"

Brock stopped struggling when he found out it was one of the Doc's inventions and started praying it wasn't going to blow up, or melt any body parts. "Uh, listen. If I promise to cooperate, will you unhook me?"

Molotov and the Doc exchanged glances and Brock wondered how the heck the two of them were working together. They were lucky the compound was still standing.

"Well, it would be better with his hands." The Doc's eyes went unfocused for a moment and his voice softened with remembered pleasure. "His hands are amazing."

"Hmm. This is true, but. Can we trust you, Brock?"

Brock prided himself on being trained to handle anything. He looked at the half dressed, slavering group watching him with eager, lust filled eyes and swallowed hard. "Bring it on."

**********

Molotov mounted him, and Brock couldn't hold back a groan as her tight, wet heat surround him. She grabbed his wrists and held his hands down against the bed as she rode him, nails digging into his flesh. The bite of pain mingled with the pleasure and enhanced it as was always the case with them. He strained up, until he reached one of the full breasts hanging tantalizingly over him. It was her turn to groan as he mouthed a hard peak, nipping lightly. He could feel her clench around him as she came with a shriek loud enough to scare the neighbors if they had any.

Doctor Venture rubbed his hands together. "Finally! My turn." He reached out only to have Molotov snarl at him. 

"Back off! We are far from finished."

"Oh for Pete's sake, don't be greedy, how many orgasms could you possibly need?"

She rolled her one eye, starting her rocking motion again. "I have no doubt you do not understand. A woman who has the misfortune to fuck you probably cannot spell the word, but my magnificent Brock never leaves me with less than five."

She grinned down at him. "And of course there was that night we spent at the Cordova, for my birthday, One for each year. I could not move for a day." 

The Doc flipped a dismissive hand at her. "Whatever, harridan. Just hurry it up will you. It's bad enough we have to share but we don't want this to take forever. Some of us have important work to do." He glanced around and his voice dropped. "Not to mention I'd like to get this vermin out of the compound as soon as possible." 

********** 

"Hey Dad, what's going on here?"

"Yeah, why is Brock spread out like that, with Miss Cocktease on top of him?"

Doctor Venture hastily re-zipped his speed suit and went over, putting an arm around each of the boys, herding them back towards the door.

Hank held up a finger. "I know, it's some kind of training exercise right? Brock's trying to see if he can get her off without using any hands."

"Something like that boys, now why don't you..."

"Can I be next?"

"What? No! This is adult time boys, now why don't you go off somewhere and play with Helper." There was a series of mechanical clicks and whirs from the other side of the room. Oh. "Well, it seems that Helper is um, helping out in here as well." Damn it, why hadn't he ever replaced that dog. "I'm sure you boys can find something to do in your room."

"Have you seen my father....hey, what's going on here?" Triana glanced around the room, mouth open.

Dean immediately blushed. "Hi, Triana. It's um, some kind of game, er, training thing, with Brock."

Triana crossed her arms, taking in the half dressed occupants of the room. "Oh, really?"

"Oh for Pete's sake, will you kids get out of here?"

"Sure, Doctor Venture. Come on Hank, let me tell you about the game, It's...Daddy!" Her shocked shriek yanked Dr. Orpheus' attention away from the activity on the slab in front of him.

"Pumpkin? What are you doing here?" Dr. Orpheus's sonorous tones rang through the room.

"I might ask you the same thing."

"Oh, er, well..." He trailed off, looking at Dr. Venture helplessly.

Doctor Venture sighed. "Your father is an important part of the test group."

"Well in that case, I'm sure you won't mind if we stay and watch."

"Pumpkin, I don't really think that's appropriate." He glanced over at Brock who had his head thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure as Peter White and Master Billy took Miss Cocktease's place. If he didn't hurry this up, he was going to lose his place in line.

Triana rolled her eyes. "Please, like I don't see worse than this on MTV. Besides, it's not like I'm a virgin."

Doctor Venture raised a brow. "Really? Way to go, son!"

Dean's blush increased to critical proportions

"Oh, no, no I..."

"No, of course you didn't" He shook his head.

Orpheus paled. "I can hear no more of this!" He pointed towards the door. "Begone!" His daughter turned and flounced out, followed reluctantly by the boys. "And we're getting a V-chip!"

"Whatever, Dad." She slammed the door behind her. Dr. Orpheus slumped a moment, then sighed and hurried back to his spot.

After he ran the boys off, Doctor Venture elbowed his way back to the front of the line, glaring at anyone who attempted to protest. It was his compound and his Brock damn it! There was no way he was taking sloppy tenths or whatever, especially after that harlot had gotten first dibs. He knew he should have used a trick coin. A few minutes later, stretched out on the table, panting in pleasure, as Brock proved just what a good idea it was to free his hands, he could almost ignore the ravening crowd around them.

**********

Twenty-one tried not to fidget, but he couldn't help but stand on tiptoe to peer over the shoulder of the Baron, trying to see what was going on. All he could catch was a glimpse of skin now and then, but the sounds, moans, flesh slapping against flesh, had him hard already. In truth he'd only had one encounter with Brock. Well, the whole truth was, he'd sort of rubbed against him a couple of times, then went back to his room to masturbate, but he wasn't going to admit that. When Mrs. the Boss had asked about it, he'd raised his hand eagerly, as had Twenty-four. He glanced over at his partner now and wondered what his experience with Brock had been, and why he'd never said anything. He bet it wasn't much.

"So, you and Brock huh?"

"Oh yeah, he's some fella."

"Yeah. Man, this line is moving slowly."

"At this rate, there won't be any left for us."

He glanced around Baron Underbheit again, shrinking back from the vicious glare the Baron turned on him. He held up his hands. "Sorry, Dude." After another fierce look the Baron turned back and Twenty-one let out a sigh of relief. He shared a grin with Twenty-four and couldn't help dropping his eyes to the other henchman's groin. He had an idea. "Uh huh. Maybe this will make the wait easier." He reached over and slid his hand into the fold of Twenty-four's uniform. Just like him, the other henchman was hard. His hand curled around the heated flesh.

"Hey! What are you...oh God! Stop it." Twenty-four groaned as Twenty-one squeezed softly and began to stroke him.

"I'm just trying to help you out buddy. Who knows how long we have to stand here, and you looked like you were in pain."

"Liar! You're just trying to keep me from getting my turn. Two can play that game!" Twenty-four reached over and grabbed his cock through the material, squeezing and Twenty-one's knees almost buckled at the pleasure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had somebody else's hand on him and even through the layers it felt wonderful. He bit his lip and kept jacking Twenty-four as the other man reached in and touched him, flesh against flesh.

Soon they were leaning against each other, panting and groaning as they jerked each other off. The line moved forward but they were too wrapped up in each other to notice. 

**********

Brock was always the one in control. He made sure of that, but he had little control over this. There wasn't much he could do without actually hurting anybody, and after struggling internally for a little bit, he gave in--body and mind--and reveled in the sensations. He still wasn't completely sure about Dr. Mrs. the Monarch. She seemed to have the right equipment but that voice still freaked him out. It reminded him too much of Colonel Gathers. Still, since she was more interested in mounting her husband with a strap-on while he went down on Brock, he was able to keep his head in the game.

He was secretly relieved to see the line had shortened as some of those waiting turned to each other. The room was filled with grunts and moans of pleasure and the occasional orgasmic scream. Hours passed, until finally everyone lay in sticky heaps around the room. Brock sat up, stretching the kinks out. He hated to admit it, but he could definitely use a little Gatorade right now. "We're done here right?"

Molotov smiled, arching her back with a cat like grace. "Oh yes, for now, Darling. That was very nice. Unfortunately, it was only a temporary solution."

The Doc tapped a finger against his lips as he looked at Brock, then his eyes lit up. "I've got it! Helper! Fire up the clone machine."

From where they were spying in the hall, the boys grinned at each other, hands raising, fingers slapping against each other in V formation. "Go team Venture!"

 


End file.
